A Winter's Tale
She leaves. I wave and say one last goodbye,
Regretful, yet so happy she could smile.
I'm quite surprised no tear came to my eye;
I know she's home in just a little while.
I drive on home. I look down at my hands.
I'm picking up the phone. I find his name.
It rings and rings and rings and stops the sands
Of time. "That kind of love is not the same."
His warm, inviting arms hold so much light
And laughter, love and sweetness of our plan.
I'm tempted, for a moment, near midnight,
By Fiji, Egypt, France, Tibet, Japan,
The ring, the map, the cards, the stick. The sweet
Sound echoes from our tangled hearts that beat.